


Driven Mad

by Mis_Shapes



Series: Theon Greyjoy Kink Bingo [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bickering, Car Sex, Light-Hearted, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Road Trips, Smoking, fairly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27513058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mis_Shapes/pseuds/Mis_Shapes
Summary: Theon and Jon set off on a trip to deliver Robb's car to his new home with Jeyne down at the Crag, sharing the drive. Neither are impressed with this situation.TGKB 'Vehicular' square fill
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow
Series: Theon Greyjoy Kink Bingo [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995442
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: Theon Greyjoy Kink Bingo





	Driven Mad

**Author's Note:**

> What's this? Me putting Theon and Jon into another situation where they're stuck together, possibly including a vehicle, probably Robb Stark's fault?  
>   
> My apologies

“That him?” Kyra asks him, peeking through the blinds and out of the kitchen window, letting in blinding sunlight in the process.

Presumably. It’s ten minutes earlier than they’d agreed afteral. Snow would call it punctual, Theon would call it being an aggravating prick.

“How am I supposed to see when you’re stood in the way?”

Tutting at him when he taps her arm to move, Kyra steps only a little to the side for him to join her in being nosey. 

Outside, Jon leans back against the car, drumming his fingers against his opposite arm as he waits. He’s becoming impatient already, despite not having let Theon know he’s arrived. Standard.

“He’s kinda cute,” she comments, amused. “You never mentioned that he was cute.”

Theon shrugs. “He’s alright.” Theon considers this to be high praise where Snow is concerned.

“Nope.” She shakes her head and takes a sip of her tea while she continues eyeing Jon. “He’s cute enough that you’d have a commented on it if it wasn’t a ‘thing’”

“What the fuck are you talking about; a ‘thing’?”

“You know very well what I’m talking about.” Trust her to get to the heart of the matter.

“It’s too early for this.”

“Oh!” Kyra holds up her hand and flicks her fingers in a curt wave. “He’s spotted us.”

Awkwardness itself, Snow hesitantly returns the wave, looking over his shoulder to make sure it's not aimed at someone behind him. 

“See,” she snickers into her mug, “he’s adorable.”

“Stop.” Watching Jon now spy him and purse his lips, Theon sighs. “He’s a dull twit is what he is. You’re welcome to come down and say hey if it’ll shut you up.”

“Tempting, but I should leave the pair of you to it.”

“Snow,” Theon greets him with a nod five minutes later, popping the boot open to sling in his bags. He doesn’t offer to put in Jon’s but leaves it open when he walks around the car to get to the driver’s seat.

By the time Snow’s getting into the passenger seat, Theon has a pair of sunglasses on and is already flicking through radio stations. He can sense eyes on him, a small glare, but he pays it no mind, if he’s driving he’s choosing. That in itself will wind Jon up. He won’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“How’s things?” He asks once they both have seatbelts on and he’s got the navigation going to direct them to Stark’s new place.

“Fine,” Jon responds and sighs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, declining to offer up the same question.

Theon’s chest heaves with a sigh and he rolls his eyes behind the tinted shades. “I’m good. Thanks for asking, Snow, I didn’t know you cared. As you may know - “

“Don’t be under the assumption that I - “

“ _As you may know_ ,” Theon starts again, “things have been going pretty well at work - “

“I really don’t give a shit,” snaps Jon.

Theon makes a noise of frustration, flexing his hands on the wheel in lieu of actually throwing his hands into the air. “Seriously? Is this really how you’ve decided to play the next two days? Two days, Snow. You’re going to be a miserable bastard for that long?”

“That’s the plan.”

Setting his jaw, Theon concentrates on the road ahead. “Fine,” he says, echoing Jon, and turns up the volume on radio, but things are anything but fine. “If you want to play it like that.”

Why the fuck did he agree to this little road trip? If Robb wanted his car this much he should bloody well get it himself. Newborn baby or not.

Things are quiet for the next couple of hours. They barely look at each other. Jon had popped on some headphones with one last scowl and seems intent on staring out of the window until it’s his turn to drive.

Despite everything, he can’t help the niggling wonder of what Jon is listening to, if the music is annoying him, and not, surprisingly, for the wrong reasons. He’d been sincere in wanting them to use this time and to try to get along, but perhaps that’s too much to ask for.

A couple of miles later, and he pulls into a service station off the motorway. It’s a funny little place. Seems mainly catered towards lorries. It’ll do for a swap over. And a smoke, which gains him another side eye. Snow decides to use the opportunity to source caffeine. Hopefully it will make him more tolerable rather than just provide more energy to be pissed off.

It surprises him when Jon, beginning to walk away, turns back and asks, in a voice that suggests he’s already regretting breaking this little standoff, “do you want anything?”

This is forcing Theon’s hand somewhat because although he _does_ want a drink, he’s disinclined to ask Snow for it. 

Jon notices the hesitation and raises a single brow at him. “Well?” His plain black t-shirt blows against him in the wind. Theon wouldn’t put it past him to dress plainly so as not to receive some snarky comment. It’s, unfortunately for Theon, a good look on him.

Clearing his throat first, Theon nods. “Please. Coffee with a splash of milk.” Afterwards, he finds himself watching Jon walk away. She’s not wrong, he thinks briefly. He does have a certain something about him. And then there’s that arse of his… 

It’s pointless thinking about. He doesn’t like Snow, and Snow doesn’t like him. Still hung up on some argument he can barely even remember. Besides, Jon would never be up for a spot of fun, and especially not with him. The prude that he is.

He’s back relatively quickly, passing the paper cup over, though long enough for Theon to have sourced a seating spot on one of the picnic benches outside on the small patch of lawn.

“Thanks,” Theon says quietly as he takes it and flashes a quick, and hopefully charming, smile.

Jon doesn’t return it. He does, however, take a seat on the opposite side on the table. Facing sideways on rather than towards him, but still. A hand now free, he runs it through his hair, bringing a bit of volume back to it and giving Theon a decent show of his arms.

Theon flicks ash down onto the grass, wondering if this is going to get him an earful. Strangely enough, it never comes. He hates how he’s struggling with the lack of attention. Eventually, he says idly, “still can’t believe he’s moving away.”

At first, Jon only sighs, slouching forwards and setting his forearms onto his knees. Theon assumes that’s the end of the conversation, a mutual resignation of the situation. At least it’s something. At least he’s able to share this dismay with someone.

Jon appears to have taken a vested interest in the way the grass ripples in the wind, then when Theon has shifted his attention to his phone and given up on him, he speaks. “No, me neither. Out of everyone I thought he’d stick around.” He cranes his neck to look at Theon, searches his face... watches him bring the cigarette to his lips.

That’s more like it.

On the off chance, Theon flips the lid on the pack of cigarettes and offers them out wordlessly.

“No, thanks,” Jon shakes his head, waves a hand, and turns to look ahead of him again, “I best not.”

Theon can’t help but smirk. Acting on a hunch, he leans over, holding out his own with outstretched arm. “Here.”

Hesitantly, Snow’s spare hand reaches out and takes it from him. “Cheers,” he says, a little bashful about it. 

And that’s how Theon comes to be fixated on what’s playing out in front of him, from the way his fingers hold it, to the way he blows out the smoke, and everything in between. And he’s so damn casual about it. Not a hint of a cough.

A little smile plays on Jon’s lips on his second drag, fingers fleetingly releasing the fag. After he’s exhaled off to the side, he passes it back, brushing Theon’s fingers. “There’s no need to look at me like that.”

“How would that be?” Theon asks, failing to keep his voice from turning somewhat sultry.

Jon rolls his eyes. “Please… I know you, you probably think you’ve won some kind of unspoken competition.”

Well, at least he hasn’t clocked on to the whole of it. “Can’t help it… All those lectures you’ve given us, Snow,” he says, making certain that the humour carries through in his words through fear Jon will take it badly. He doesn’t want to reverse this small amount of progress.

Snow shrugs. Taking his time to respond, he sips on his coffee. “I can only handle so much temptation.”

Theon laughs, catching Jon looking when he smokes again. There’s something in knowing where it’s just been; between a beautiful pair of lips. He wonders how much this applies in other contexts.

“It’s not a regular thing,” Jon explains hastily.

“It’s ok,” he smiles, amused, “I believe you.”

“I’m just…” 

“Stressed?”

“Something like that…” He watches Theon stubbing out the cigarette and stands. “We should get going.” True, the cheap B&B they’ve booked is still a long way off and they have a deadline to get there.

Back in the car, Jon switches the station immediately over to cricket. He seems a little anxious about it. Biting his lip while he’s looking in the mirror. There’s a new batch of awkwardness between them that isn’t so easily overcome with anger. Complete silence and disregard might have been easier to come with in the long run.

Jon glances over a couple of times when they’re on a straight stretch of road until at last he pulls the pair of headphones out of his pocket and offers them.

“Ta,” says Theon, noting how many times they’re somewhat stiffly saying thank you to each other over small peace offerings and wondering how long this is going to continue.

This time in the car, it’s substantially more noticeable how good Jon smells over the pine air freshener, whether that be because they’ve come off onto a side road and Snow has taken the chance to crack open a window, letting the scent of citrus carry on the breeze, or something else. Something more concerning.

“So… work?” Jon asks, seemingly out of nowhere and taking him by surprise.

Theon smiles and takes off his glasses off now the sun has vanished. “Yeah, I won this award, and since then things have really picked up,” he says, fiddling with the spec’s arm. “I’m hoping I’ll be able to get my own place at some point.”

“Congrats. Sounds good.” Jon changes gear, looking behind then over to Theon in the mirror. His knuckles graze Theon’s thigh in the process. Theon wouldn’t be able to say he didn’t enjoy it, nor whether he wants to thank or curse Robb for having such a small car. “Sorry, I don’t know…”

“What I do?”

Jon nods. “Mmm.”

“Tattoos,” he says simply.

Jon chances taking his eyes off the road momentarily, eyes sweeping over the ink on Theon’s arms. “That’s fitting. You always had a creative streak.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” says Jon with a small yet beautiful smirk. He pauses. “I’ve always kind of wanted a tattoo.”

“Are you putting yourself forward as a canvas?”

“I don’t know about that… Let’s see if we can get through this without killing each other first.” He coughs, clearing his throat. “Sorry about earlier. My contract’s up soon and it’s a bit of a worry.”

“Sorry, that’s shit.” He’s thinking of something to add to this, a way to bring it back to a happier more lighthearted topic, when Jon groans. “What’s up?”

“Engine warning lights come on.” He huffs. 

It’s a good job Theon doesn’t suggest pushing through because not long after the car begins to make an unpleasant, and rather worrying, noise. He turns into the next side road, parks the car, and gets out to take a look only to have a cloud of smoke fly out from under the bonnet.

Hesitantly, Theon first turns on the hazards, then retrieves the manual from the glove box and walks around to join him, a touch apprehensive. “What do you think’s up with it?”

Snow shakes his head. His chest heaves. He perseveres with getting to the route of the problem while Theon wonders if he has any clue what he’s doing. It’s turned cool since they left the rest stop. After five minutes of this, Theon begins to make suggestions. It does not go down well.

“Do you think I haven’t thought about that?” Jon asks sharply, hands covered in oil.

“Maybe we should call someone…” 

“That will take hours.”

The first spot of rain falls against his arm. “It’s better than fucking around with things and then having to wait, or fixing it just to have it break down in ten minutes time.”

“You always know best, don’t you?!”

“Me?!” Theon yells, indignant, as the spitting picks up. “You’re such a hypocrite.”

Jon looks up into the sky. “Fucking hell, just what I need.” He removes the rod holding up the bonnet and pushes the thing down with a slam. “This was a mistake.”

“Too right it was. I should’ve known better than to imagine you could be civil for two shitting minutes.”

“Oh, fuck off!” Jon’s elbow digs into Theon’s ribs as he pushes past, and immediately retaliating, Theon makes a grab for his arm.

“Would you just chill out?” Theon asks, pushing Jon’s shoulder to force him to look back. 

They each stare at each other, breaths drawn out, hearts racing. Jon looks furious, dilated steel eyes piercing him. There’s nothing left to lose. Theon grabs hold of the front of Snow’s t-shirt, twists on it when he pulls to smash their lips together.

Though the noise he extracts, a drawn out whine, can’t be anything but positive, Jon pulls away abruptly.

“What are you doing?!”

“What on earth do you think I’m doing? If you don’t want me to then say, don’t do this needlessly stubborn bullshit. There’s no one here to keep face with. No one whose opinion you care about. Get off your high horse.”

It’s Jon this time that slams into him. His kiss is harsh, demanding, and before he knows it, Theon is pushing him back towards the car. Snow being Snow lets him, but bites down on to his lip when he forces a knee between his legs.

Theon wrenches them apart to latch onto his neck, relishing the way Jon groans under him and gasps as his teeth sink in.

“What if I do care?” Jon all but whimpers.

Smirking against his skin, Theon nudges him lightly with nose, breathing in the smell of him. “I like a little recklessness,” he whispers, and takes his earlobe between his teeth.

He’s not even sure who initiates the scramble to the backseat of the car. There’s barely the patience to pull the door shut once they’re inside, desperate to get hands back on each other. His own grip Snow tight, fingertips pressed down on his hips, whilst Jon’s delve into his hair, pulling back sharply to expose his neck, prompting a moan to escape his lips.

Theon runs his fingers under Jon’s waistband, feeling the soft skin there and giving him the opportunity to protest.

“Mmm,” Jon hums, sending vibrations through him as he falls back, half against the window and onto the seats, and pulls Theon down with him, letting him know it’s going the way he wants. He kisses him again while they turn their attentions to each other's buttons and zips, tongue immediately diving in.

Jon sucks in his breath when Theon gets a hand into his boxers and palms him, stomach tensing.

“Are you alright?”

“Just a bit het up.”

Theon grins broadly, sweeping his thumb over the head of Jon’s cock and watching him bite his lip. “Good to know.”

“Cocky cunt,” Jon breathes out, words losing their meaning when combined with how his brows bunch and the eagerness of the hands that tug Theon’s jeans down his thighs. 

They’re lucky the road is quiet. The steamed up windows could be a blessing or a curse, Theon’s not quite sure. With the hazards on it’s fairly clear why they were originally stopped there. Could be they’re just talking. That is until Jon’s head slides against the window leaving the silhouette of his curls around those that cling to the condensation. But if it isn’t a wonderful sight. Marks made by Theon’s hand propping him up soon join them.

Jon licks an exaggerated stripe over his hand before he reaches between them to wrap it around Theon, the other hand clutches the back of Theon’s neck and holds him close. Even when they aren’t kissing it has their faces close, moaning into one another’s mouths, breathy heat against lips. All so unexpected, it takes his breath away.

Still, there’s little finesse to it all, rather a certain kind of frenzy to the strokes, the kisses and bites, like one of them might suddenly come to their senses… or perhaps just because this has been a long time coming. Then there’s the danger of getting caught.

Jon gasps as he’s about to tip over the edge, letting ecstasy overcome him, he jerks forwards, making sure to keep his hand circled for Theon to fuck into when he himself stills. Theon follows him not long afterwards with the ministrations of Jon’s lips against his throat. He slumps down afterwards, putting his weight against Jon and trapping their hands, soon after he shakes with Jon’s nervous laughter and joins him.

Theon pulls himself up using one of the headrests a short while after. “Fuck…”

“Yeah,” agrees Jon, wiping his hand against his top. Knowing what he’s doing, Theon joins him in it and earns himself a flick against his forehead. “Oi.”

“You’re already filthy.” Winking, Theon pulls up his trousers and proceeds to search for his phone that’s fallen out onto the floor of the car to call the breakdown service. “As much as I enjoyed this, I have my heart set on a bed next time,” he lets him know while on hold.

Jon arches an eyebrow. “Next time?”

“Ey!” Theon gives him a light tap on the side of his thigh. “No needlessly stubborn bullshit, remember? You know you want it, Sn-” He cuts himself off at a ‘hello?’ down the line. “Oh, hi!”

Beside Theon, Jon shakes his head in disbelief at him, but it only provokes a smile.


End file.
